


The Impossible Hit

by Katzedecimal



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, John Watson's Blog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:58:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's assistance is requested by the unlikeliest of clients.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Impossible Hit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FroggyBangBang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroggyBangBang/gifts).



> For FroggyBangBang, who helped me suss out a few details. Merci!!

People have asked me if Sherlock ever smiles and to that I can say, **Yes.** Rather often, actually, it's just that most people give him reason _not_ to smile. One thing is guaranteed to make him smile: Three rings at the doorbell in quick succession -- client with an urgent case! 

But our smiles rather quickly vanished when our visitor crossed the threshold into 221b.

Dr. Anderson is a member of the Met's forensics team who often works investigations that Sherlock gets called in on. That's not the important point. The important point is that they **_don't_** get along. At all. But here he was, hair uncombed, eyes deeply shadowed, face haggard and unshaven, blurting out, "What are your rates?"

"You want to **hire** _Sherlock?_ " I said, shocked. Sherlock hadn't so much as glanced up from his microscope but I knew he was paying close attention.

Anderson nodded. "I haven't got long," he said and his voice was numb, "They've already come for Sally. They don't know I'm here but they'll find me." I motioned for him to take a seat and bid him continue. 

"My wife was murdered yesterday," Anderson said in a voice that was flat and grey, "Someone hired a killer and set it up to make it look like Sally and me had done it." 

I stared at him in shock and nearly forgot to set the tea cups down. Sergeant Donovan was another officer who had an antagonistic relationship with Sherlock, which is putting it mildly. One of the things he did to antagonise her was deduce that she was having an affair with Dr. Anderson. So this was quite a turn of events!

Sherlock sent off a few texts then sat down in his armchair -- and not corrected Anderson's grammar. At last, he said, "Who paid for the hit?" 

"The money was wired out of my account," Anderson sighed. He wiped a hand down his face and admitted, "I'd been lax about checking it regularly, of late."

"Do you have photographs of the crime scene?" 

In answer, Anderson pushed his mobile over. "Not good ones," he admitted, "Being a suspect, I can't get my usual equipment and I can't get access to the scene. There's a second set where I managed to tag a few items on my phone's software. I did the best I could with what I had."

Sherlock said nothing but studied the images for several minutes. "The hired gun appears to be Alfons 'The Nail' Ramirez." 

"Oh look, I got one right." Anderson was trying to sound sarcastic but he was just too despondant.

Sherlock pressed a few buttons on the phone then passed it back. "What evidence do they have on Donovan?"

"They say she left threatening messages on my wife's voice mail but Sally wouldn't do that!" Anderson's voice had gained a pleading edge. "We didn't do this. Alright, I'm not happy with my wife and I was planning a divorce but I don't hate her, not enough to kill her! Not like this. Not at all."

"Who else might?" Sherlock asked. 

"I don't know."

"John knows."

I did? "I do?" 

"Certainly," Sherlock shrugged and glanced back at Anderson, "Somebody who has access to your bank account, knew your habits well enough to know you weren't checking it regularly, knew you were having an affair and was angry enough about it to want to frame you." He sent off another text then launched out of his chair and grabbed his coat. "Don't wait up, John," he said to me as he swirled out. 

That left Anderson staring after him in silence. Finally he said in a tiny voice, "Do you think he'll take my case?"

I turned and quirked an eyebrow at him. Right at that moment, I couldn't have been more proud of Sherlock. "He'd taken it before he sat down. If I know him, he was texting his sources and arranging to get access to the evidence. He sent the pictures to his own account so he'd have them to study."

"You think he believes me, then?"

"He believed you the moment you came through that door. Coming here, hiring him, with your histories? - you're desperate."

"Yes!" Anderson moaned. He passed a hand over his face again, "Um, about that.. I mean.. we haven't exactly gotten on with each other... How much d'you think that'll...?"

I shook my head, "Not at all. That's an advantage to Sherlock's 'feelings aren't important' viewpoint: He doesn't let them get in the way of an investigation." Sherlock tells me I'm different when I'm 'Captain Watson'; the way Anderson was staring at me now, I could almost believe it.

"People say they won't rest until a job is done but they mean it figuratively," I told him, "When Sherlock is on a case, he means it literally. As of right now, Anderson, Sherlock will refuse to eat and he will not sleep. His every thought will be devoted to finding the truth of this matter. He will leave no stone unturned and he will find stones that others have overlooked and he will turn them as well. He **will** find the truth of this and he **will** find the evidence to support it, whatever the truth may be. And this is the level of service he provides to strangers who hire him, people who don't even know him! He won't let this one go easily. From this point forward, Sherlock Holmes will run until he is passing out from hypoglycemia and overwork and he _still_ won't let it go until it's solved."

Anderson left and was straight away taken into custody. I texted the news to Sherlock. He texted back to tell me he was at the crime scene and wanted my opinions. I'm never sure _why_ , I'm almost always wrong, but he says I often trigger something that gives him insight. See, I'm good for something besides buying the milk! 

When I got there, our friend Detective Inspector Lestrade had just arrived on scene and was staring down at the blood-stained carpet. He startled when Sherlock asked him, "Who's on forensics?"

"MacKenzie," he replied automatically then asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Anderson's hired me," Sherlock said absently. 

That surprised Lestrade, who'd witnessed many of the verbal sparrings between those two. Anderson and Donovan are regularly on Inspector Lestrade's teams, you see. Then he shook his head, "I don't know how much you'll find. I know you're not fond of Anderson but MacKenzie just hasn't got a patch on him."

Sherlock nodded, "I know. Like practically everybody, Anderson sees but doesn't observe, but he sees more than most people, that's what makes him good. It's when he tries to interpret what he's seeing that he falls into idiocy." He shook his head, "Anderson captured better evidence with his crap mobile camera."

Coming from Sherlock, that's high praise. I don't know who was more surprised, me or Inspector Lestrade! Our friend sighed and said, "Don't show me, it'd compromise my end of the investigation. They already think my objectivity is compromised." 

Sherlock glanced around the room then said, "I need access to the voice mails."

"I'll do what I can to get it for you."

"The body is coming through Barts. Molly will hold it for me." Molly is another friend of ours, a friend in the truest fashion. I speak the honest truth when I say that Sherlock would not be here today without her. 

"Do you expect to find anything special?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock sighed, "No. The shooter was The Nail."

Lestrade pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed also, "Great. That creep treats the justice system like a revolving door."

"It's part of his M.O," Sherlock agreed, "The Nail in the coffin. He's brilliant at framework and forging alibis. He **wants** to be caught so that his evidence supporting his frame-ups can be found."

"And we play into his traps every time," Lestrade sighed again.

"Perhaps not, if you can get me those voice messages."

It took some time to get them. Once he had them, Sherlock spent the next day listening to them and running them through voice-analysis software. But what he did next absolutely stunned me. 

He went to visit Sergeant Donovan, who was in custody at the time. He went to get her side of the story, but some of the language he was using and some of the comments he was making...! I'll admit, I was stunned, because I have _never_ heard him talk like that before! In fact, when I thought about it, I realised how incredibly out of character it was -- Sherlock isn't the most socially graceful person on earth but his only prejudice is against idiots, a classification that transcends all race, gender, sexual identity, ability, religion and any other lines we mere humans choose to draw amongst ourselves. The thing is, while Sergeant Donovan has treated Sherlock to the most juvenile name-calling this side of secondary school, Sherlock has _never fought back._ He'll lash back at Anderson, but he has _never_ lashed back at Donovan. Well it appeared to be payback time, now, and the disgraced sergeant was alternately smug, indignant, outraged, weeping, and venomous by turns! I _almost_ felt sorry for the woman (almost: She was one of the first to fall into Moriarty's trash-talk trap and I still can't quite forgive her for her part in what happened to Sherlock.)

He had her all worked up and screaming at him when finally he gave a great laugh and withdrew a digital voice recorder from his pocket. "Thank you, Sergeant," he said, "You've been most co-operative. I now have voice samples matching all of the timbres and moods expressed on the evidence messages. Once I have the CCTV footage I require, I shall no doubt be able to prove that you were recorded over time and your voice sampled and spliced into the messages on Mrs. Anderson's and The Nail's voice mails."

Haha, I was right! I knew that was all out of character for him! People just aren't that good of actors, so he needed to provoke genuine emotional responses and Sherlock excels at provoking. He also believes in using the direct approach if he feels it's the best way to further his investigation. That's something to remember if you ever encounter Sherlock, especially if he's on a case -- he might not _actually_ be being an arse. 

"You know he once saved your reputation," I said casually before I followed him out, "You were giving a bunch of recruits the grand tour. As they were filing out of the room, he noticed a large spider behind you, abseiling down from the ceiling and aiming straight for your head. He told you to get tea. You thought he was being a sexist arse but he did that to get you out of the room without triggering your phobia. I followed you to keep you from seeing him go past the break room door with the thing in a jar. You've worked hard to establish yourself in a white-male dominated career; he'd rather you thought him a sexist prat than see you blow it all over a spider." She was still thinking about that when I left.

By then I'd lost Sherlock of course, so I went home to wait for him to text. He'd gone to borrow some sound equipment from a former client, a sound engineer we met during a memorable case where someone's attempt to re-enact _The Phantom of the Opera_ went horribly wrong. 

He spent the next day listening to the sound clips and comparing them to the evidence voice messages. At one point, he ripped off the headphones and flung them across the room with the snarl of frustration. I recognised that as the sound of 'Stymied Sherlock' -- something I welcome with mixed feelings. On the plus side, it means he's getting a challenge but on the minus side, he does get a bit snappish. 

Without a word to me, he grabbed his coat and went out for a bit, to return with some very expensive high-end headphones, the kind with gold tips and everything. Back to work he went. They proved up to the task; this time, instead of a snarl of frustration, he gave a purr of satisfaction and very soon started marking points on the sound waves where he was hearing subtle differences.

By then, the CCTV footage he'd requested had arrived, so he took a little break from the sound bytes to comb through that instead. I watched, wondering what it was that he was looking for. He began setting time stamps and I frowned. "That isn't the Nail, surely?" I asked him, "Didn't you say the Nail's name was Alfons? Who's that, then? Does he have an accomplice?"

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye with that little grin he gives me whenever I've ~~done a trick well~~ said something pertinent. "Only his client," he drawled, "That is Mrs. Anderson."

I blinked a few times. "Mrs. Anderson? The victim? She must have been visiting her husband."

Sherlock shook his head, "She was collecting samples of Donovan's voice."

"Sherlock, she was the **victim** ," I started to protest -- and then I stopped. Somebody who had access to Anderson's bank account, knew his habits well enough to know he wasn't checking it regularly, knew he was having affair and was angry enough about it to want to frame him. I had known people who had attempted to murder cheating spouses and I had known people who had attempted suicide to spite their cheating spouses... "She set up her own murder?!"

And Sherlock smiled at me, that thousand-watt smile that makes living with him so worth while. "Exactly, John. She takes her husband and her rival down with her. No matter how the court case turns out, whether they're convicted or not, their careers are finished. I knew right away, it could only be her."

"Incredible!" I breathed. 

Then a frown of irritation creased his face, "The answer was obvious but she's smarter than her husband and she hired The Nail, a man who specialises in fabricating evidence -- proving it was looking to be unlikely but I think I might have it cracked if I can get a clearer resolution on the security camera footage."

It took another day to get the required resolutions and match them up to Mrs. Anderson's movements, during which Sherlock was extremely agitated. In his mind - and in the minds of his clients, truly - every second counts and being forced into the period where he can do nothing but wait, with no puzzles to chew over, grates sorely on his nerves. It also leads to some rows over whether or not this counts as 'being on the case', which is the logic I use to try to get him to eat something or kip. Sometimes he lets me win on this, but not this time. 

The wait was worth it. He'd done it again! Once again, Sherlock's keen senses had spotted what others had missed - only he had heard the tiny little jumps in the voice mail messages that told him that they were samples spliced together. With the recordings he'd taken of Donovan, he'd been able to prove conclusively that the sergeant **hadn't** left the messages nor was hers the voice on The Nail's voice mail, either. With the other evidence and the security footage to do the rest, the case was solved, Anderson and Donovan were cleared, and the nails in The Nail's coffin were sealed!

 

**Comments**

You really weren't kidding. I couldn't believe it when he came through the door and just passed out like that! He really **does** run himself into the ground! Is he okay now?  
 **D. Anderson** 5 May 15:14

 

He really does. He's fine. Thanks for helping me get him to bed. An IV drip and a good bit of kip and he's up and poncing around again with a roaring appetite, haha!   
**John Watson** 5 May 15:37

 

Did he really say that about me?  
 **D. Anderson** 5 May 15:42

 

He really did. He doesn't let feelings, stories or beliefs cloud his perception.   
**John Watson** 5 May 15:45

 

I can't believe he did all that for us. After what we did. I don't know what to say. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, I'm so grateful. I just don't know if I can face him again.   
**S. Donovan** 5 May 16:18

 

He's a better man than people give him credit for. He's a better man than I am, that's for sure, especially when it comes to forgiving people who've wronged him.  
 **John Watson** 5 May 16:20

 

I've totally forgiven him for what he said.  
 **S. Donovan** 5 May 16:24

 

You're entirely too credulous, Donovan. It makes for an easily exploitable vulnerability.  
 **Sherlock Holmes** 5 May 16:27

 

[comment deleted]  
 **Harry Watson** 5 May 18:23

 

Harry, I can't allow that to go up, my blog is publically viewable. It was too long for the comment field anyway.  
 **John Watson** 5 May 18:27

 

[comment deleted]  
 **Harry Watson** 5 May 18:33

 

And how many have you had?  
 **John Watson** 5 May 18:35

 

John, fetch me my revolver!  
 **Sherlock Holmes** 5 May 18:45

 

You don't actually have a revolver, do you?  
 **D. Anderson** 5 May 18:54

 

"Fetch me my Super Soaker" just doesn't have the same ring.  
 **Sherlock Holmes** 5 May 19:00


End file.
